


Mordhome Alone

by murderofonerose (atmilliways)



Series: 12 Days of Dethmas 2020 [11]
Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: 12 Days of Dethmas, But hey they're both consenting adults, M/M, Magnus is kind of a dick, Pre-DSR, They can do what they want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28275846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atmilliways/pseuds/murderofonerose
Summary: Toki istotallynot lonely because his bandmates forgot about him, and Magnus istotallynot guilty about rolling with it to sate his own curiosities.
Relationships: Magnus Hammersmith/Toki Wartooth
Series: 12 Days of Dethmas 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055183
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Mordhome Alone

**Author's Note:**

> **Dec 23 - Home (or alone) for the holidays**
> 
> Like Kevin McCallister, it wasn't like Toki _tried_ to get left behind . . . but he's not entirely mad about it, either. 
> 
> Anyway, this is my first Magnus/Toki fic, so, hmm.

“So,” Magnus said as he crossed the threshold. “This is the famous Mordhaus.”

“Yeah, isn’t it cools?” Toki enthused as he ushered the older man inside. 

It certainly was a step up from the crappy apartment they’d had back when Magnus was still in Dethklok. For one thing, he never could’ve broken in to paint _REVENGE IS COMING_ on the walls here. He’d counted at least eleven snipers that he could see on the way in, and knowing both the band’s reputation for over the top security measures and the limitations of his one good eye, probably at least double that number that he hadn’t noticed. If he weren’t here by Toki’s express invitation, he’d be so many different kinds of dead right now. 

He didn’t need any recon inside this place for The Plan—it would never work to pull anything there, not with so much security in every nook and cranny. But he’d always been curious, so here he was. 

“And none of the other guys are here?” Magnus pressed, still looking around. Fuck, this place was _huge_. (This could have been his.) “Not even Offdensen?”

“Nah,” Toki replied offhandedly, “they thoughts I was on the plane and tooks offs withouts me to goes on a ski trip, ands now they’re stucks in a blizzards. They can’t gets back and I can’t goes theres. So, I calls you!”

Without any warning that Magnus had picked up on, Toki reached out and grabbed his hand. It wasn’t like he threaded their fingers together or anything, but the surprise connection was more than Magnus felt comfortable with, an uncomfortable feeling in his gut that he wasn’t used to at all and had no idea how to label. (He didn’t do guilt; he didn’t do ‘cowed by how open and naively friendly someone was unexpectedly being’ either. It was definitely, one hundred percent neither of those things.)

“Come ons, I shows you around!”

The young guitarist pulled him from room to room, chattering nonstop. It was annoying in an informative, easy to tune out the rambling bits sort of way. This was the room where Dethklok hung out and played video games, this was the room where they hung out to watch tv and eat snacks, this was the room where they hung out in a surprisingly small hot tub for five male billionaires who didn’t seem to like each other’s company that much, this was the cavernous kitchen that they frequented when they wanted more snacks or possibly even a meal. It was endless and irritating, and Magnus didn’t actually _want_ to spend a ton of time with this babbling idiot, but he reminded himself that this was all part of The Plan and sullenly continued to let himself be dragged around and shown all the shit that he could have had, but didn’t. 

He did ask for a drink, though, to blunt the edges. Toki gestured to someone in his blind spot, and moments later a cold beer was handed to him by a hooded servant. 

“And this ams my room,” Toki told him proudly, tugging Magnus into . . . the smallest room he had seen yet. It was basically a stone box with an on-suite. Model airplanes hung from the ceiling, action figures crowded the edges of his bookshelf, and the desk was piled with unfinished projects and puzzles and crap. One of the pictures hanging on the wall over the narrow bed and beneath a double-sided battle axe was an early promo shot of the band, and another was a close-up of some scary zombie-looking asshole’s face, maybe a relative or something. The rest of the walls were mostly just decorated with taped up posters of boats, planets, and sharks. 

“This?” Magnus repeated. “Seriously? You have . . . and entire fucking mansion that’s tricked out with all kinds of cool shit, but _this_ is your room.”

If it had been him, he’d have his own arcade, giant tv, and hot tub in his room, so he could do all those things on his own if he wanted to. Plus a bitching sound system. Plus bigass windows to let some actual fucking light in. Plus . . . god, was that bed from IKEA or something? Was _all of this_ from IKEA? Riches were wasted on this kid, Magnus decided scornfully. He had no idea how to appreciate what he had at his fingertips. 

Toki shrugged. “I gots all the rest of the place if I wants that other stuff, so this ams just all stuffs I mades by myself. Evens the desk, I puts that together. Just Toki’s.” He met Magnus’ incredulous look with a sudden grin and squeezed his hand. “Comes on, let’s go back to the others room and watch a movies!”

* * *

It wasn’t until halfway through the movie that Magnus wasn’t even paying attention to—he was looking around and trying to appraise the cost and potential EBay value of anything he saw that wasn’t nailed down and small enough to fit in his pocket—that he realized Toki kept scooting closer to him on the couch. _That_ , after all the hand holding, finally started to set off alarm bells. 

Did the poor simple bastard have some sort of _crush_ on him or something? How embarrassing. So embarrassing that he couldn’t decide if he wanted to try and snap a picture to sell to some gossip rags later or not. 

That was totally why he felt weird and jumpy, and only more so once Toki had inched close enough to rest his head on Magnus’ shoulder. A weird, warm, hyper-awareness bloomed anywhere Toki touched him—first his shoulder, then his side, then (Magnus absolutely did not gulp when this happened) his thigh. He had to wrestle down the impulse to start bouncing that leg restlessly, because he didn’t dare shake him off and potentially ruin The Plan. 

So he stayed still. And the thing about the warmth was that Toki was just _radiating_ with it, and the longer he was so close the more it spread. Magnus felt as though he might incandesce at any moment and he fucking hated every second of it. 

He tried directing his attention to the tv and remembered it was December, so Toki had picked a Christmas movie at random. On the giant screen, Sarah Jessica Parker was covered in egg and screaming in a kitchen. Not the best distraction ever. 

“Needs anything?” Toki asked casually, as if everything was just fine and dandy, apparently somehow not noticing that Magnus was on the verge of starting to worry he might have a heart attack. 

“No,” Magnus grunted. _A way out would be great, thanks._ He remembered he still had a beer in one hand (his fourth or fifth, at this point) and raised his unencumbered arm to glug the rest of it down. 

“You sures?” Toki pressed, looking up at him with guileless eyes. 

Shaking the last few drops out and tossing the bottle down the couch, Magnus started to say _Another drink, something stronger this time_ , but he couldn’t. Toki’s lips pressed warmly, nervously against his, kissing away the aftertaste of beer. 

He had not come prepared for this. 

He didn’t even need to be here, it wasn’t necessary to The Plan. 

Toki was too goddamned _nice_ , inviting him here and showing him around like he genuinely wasn’t a threat, like he was someone Toki actually _enjoyed_ being around. (Magnus thought pretty highly of himself, but even he had to admit that most people didn’t ever appreciate his presence. Or if they did it, usually wasn’t for this long. Jealous douchebags, that’s all they were, the whole fucking human race.) 

Magnus took it anyway. Fuck it, why not? It had been one thing when he was still in his twenties or thirties, hot in a rough-and-tumble bad-boy musician way, getting his share of action after playing a gig at some nothing bar, but at his age and painful lack of fame and fortune, to have anyone this young and ripped pressed up against him was a rare occurrence. He was taking the kiss out of spite, he told himself, and gave back as good as he got. 

Surely he wouldn’t regret this later. 

Toki sighed against his mouth, bright blue eyes fluttering open. “Thanks you, Magnus.”

“Uh.” Magnus fought against instinctively grimacing at the thanks, which he wasn’t used to. He licked absently at his lip, not realizing he was doing so until the tip of his tongue brushed Toki’s lip too and made the other man giggle. Fucking _giggle_. “For what?”

“For beings here,” Toki told him. “Is nice to nots be alones on Christmas, don’ts you thinks?”

Magnus wanted to say he’d ever particularly noticed Christmas one way or the other before, but for some reason it (the lie) stuck in his throat. “. . . Yeah, I guess.”

Something in Toki’s eyes shifted and he suddenly looked . . . he looked _lonely,_ as familiar a sight as though Magnus was recognizing it in a mirror (which he definitely never did). He wondered what Toki was gunning for here—a friend with benefits, or something more than that? 

Something ‘just Toki’s,’ a little holiday closeness with someone he thought actually cared?

(That thought didn’t make Magnus feel like a two-bit white masquerading as something better, not even a little bit.)

“You wants to sees my room agains?” Toki whispered?

On the tv, sappy holiday ambiance music played as the movie went out of its way to establish that everyone was friendly and happy and appropriately paired up now, all two-by-two sheep marching into Noah’s ark before the winter flood. 

“Sure,” Magnus said. 

He wasn’t a sheep, he told himself, it had just been too long since he’d last gotten laid. 

Christmas had nothing whatsoever to do with it.

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone wondering, the movie Toki put on was The Family Stone (2005).


End file.
